by Tim O'Rourke
Melody lay outstretched on the ground before me. One hand clutched her purple and bloated face. Her lips were blue, and her tongue snaked from the corner of her mouth looking black and bloated. Melody’s knees were drawn up where she had kicked out wildly with her legs. The hem of her dress had been hitched up, revealing her tattoo-covered thighs. I knelt down beside her, and lowering her skirt to cover her legs, I gently took her into my arms.
Memories of how I’d cradled my own dead sister, Kara, in my arms crashed over me. Throwing my head back, I howled in agony and despair. I had never felt so much pain and sorrow. It was like the pain of all my victims eating away at my black heart. Melody hadn’t deserved to die, nor had my sister and neither had any of my victims. With bright golden tears streaming from my eyes and down the length of my gaunt face, I howled and howled. I held Melody’s shaven head against my chest, my body racked with gut-wrenching sobs.
Very gently, I lay her back on the ground. I folded Melody’s hands over her chest and closed the lids over her bulging eyes. I heard the sound of approaching footfalls amongst the leaves. I sprang to my feet to see Melody’s mother approaching, carrying a spade in her hand. I headed back out of the clearing. I looked back just once more at Melody lying dead on the ground. Her mother stood over her dead daughter’s body and placed the blade of the spade against Melody’s neck. Then, lifting her foot, she stomped down on the spade, cutting off Melody’s head.
My first thought was of Isi-bore and I guessed he would be frantically looking for Melody by now. Did he know that she had been taken by her mother? Perhaps, but I doubted he knew where Melody had been taken. If Isi-bore did know, then I figured he would be in the woods already. I headed down to the shore by the lake. I checked out the bush Melody and Is-bore had spent so much time in together. He wasn’t there. Perhaps he had gone back into The Hollows, but I doubted it. I made my way along the shore, then in the distance I saw him talking to the boy he had argued with a few days before. Crouching low, I watched them talk, although I couldn’t hear what was being said. It didn’t look like they were arguing this time around. After a short conversation, I saw Isi-bore run away from the other boy in the direction of town.
I followed at a distance and I knew that he was heading for Melody’s home. The sun was starting to fade as the day grew gradually to a close. Isidor pushed open the front gate and raced up the garden path. I could see no sign of the mother’s car, and I guessed she was still burying her daughter in the woods. I wanted to leap from the bushes and tell Isi-bore he was in the wrong place, I wanted to tell him where he would find the body of the girl he loved, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t meant to change anything, I reminded myself.
Isi-bore yanked on the front door and it rattled in its frame. Discovering it was locked, he went around the side of the house. I waited several minutes to see if he would come back. When he didn’t, I snuck from my hiding place. I bounded over the wall and then looked back at the dirt track as the sound of an approaching car could be heard from the distance. Bent double, I crept around the side of the house and dropped over the stone wall, where the window led into the basement. I peered inside to see Isi-bore.
At first I thought I startled him, as he jerked his head up. But he didn’t turn to face the window. Just like me, Isi-bore had heard the sound of the car approaching, and both of us knew it was Melody’s mother. But instead of running like I thought he would, Isi-bore headed over to the large cross and stood in the shadows before the altar. There was a metal chain, and pulling on it, he hoisted himself up, so it looked as if he had been crucified. I heard the car door slam, the sound of the mother’s shoes crunching over gravel as she made her way up to the front door. It opened then closed.
On all fours, I pressed my face against the grubby window. Melody’s mother came down the stairs and into the basement where Isi-bore was hiding. At the bottom stair, she lit two candles and placed these before a small font made of stone. She raised her hands in prayer and I saw blood drip from them. Very carefully, I eased the window open just an inch with my fingertips. The mother plunged her hands into the water in the font and washed the blood from between her fingers. Once she had washed the evidence of what she had done away, she dropped to her knees and began to pray.
“Dear Lord, I have sent my wretched child to you for forgiveness. Please release her of her demons, if that is your will.”
She’s got to be fucking joking, right? Melody had no demons in her. I knew all about living with demons.
“Dear sweet Jesus, I pray that you reward me now that I have carried out your will... now that Melody is dead,” she said.
And I thought I was fucked in the head! There were no rewards for people like me and her.
I saw a dark shadow fall over her upturned face. At first I did believe that the devil had truly come to take her. Two giant black wings fluttered across my eye line as Isi-bore flew down from the cross.
“Don’t look,” he demanded. “You’re not fit to look upon me.”
Melody’s mother cried out in fear and dropped to the floor.
Was Isi-bore finally going to let his monster free and rip this bitch’s fucking head off? Part of me hoped not.
“What did you do?” he asked, fluttering in the shadows so she couldn’t see his face.
“What the Lord asked me to do,” the woman moaned. “I killed the demon within my child by sacrificing her.”
Isi-bore dropped to the floor and raced across the chapel towards Melody’s mother. His wings were spread open on either side of him. He took hold of the woman, dragging her roughly to her feet.
“Are you an angel?” she asked, her eyes wide with fear.
She fucking hoped he was.
“It’s not me who is the angel!” he screamed at her. “It was your daughter, and you will burn in Hell for what you have done to her!”
“No!” the woman wailed. She dropped to the floor where she began to cover Isi-bore’s feet with kisses. “I beg you... please, you must forgive me.”
“There is no forgiveness for what you have done,” he told her. And like me, she knew what Isi-bore had said was true.
Isi-bore kicked her away, as if her very touch revolted him. Melody’s mother began to sob hysterically on the floor. But I knew she wasn’t crying for forgiveness for what she had done, she was crying for herself.
From my hiding place, I watched Isi-bore stumble out into the fields that stretched away at the back of the house. He dropped to his knees like he had been shot. Keeping low, I made my way through the long, overgrown grass. I watched with a heavy heart as he pounded the ground with his fists over and over again.
He looked up into the heavens and screamed. “I hate you!”
Tears streamed down his face and I saw myself as a boy again, hiding in the shadows at the back of the church as Father Paul’s coffin was carried in. I could feel the hot tears streaming down my face, and gnawed on my own fist to prevent myself from screaming. I watched Isidor race up into the sky, the roar of his grief sounding like thunder.
Why hadn’t he taken revenge for Melody’s death? Why hadn’t he murdered her mother? Because Isidor was a fighter, not a killer. But I was a killer, and I knew I could never change. The curse – the monster inside of me – would never be beaten.
Finally admitting this to myself, I headed back towards the house. Isidor might not be able to kill the bitch, but I could.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Potter
It was cold along the desolate track. The wind blew down from the hills and screamed through the branches of the nearby trees. I guess if Sparky had planned to kill Kiera tonight, he couldn’t have chosen a better location. Even though the night sky was clear of cloud, it was still so dark at times that it was near impossible to see just a few yards ahead. By torchlight, Sparky gave me and Kiera something close to a briefing. He had all the intel about this operation written down in his police notebook. Sparky explained he had received information that the ATM at Bleak Point St
ation was going to be hit.
“Who was the source of information?” I asked him.
“Just an informant I’ve been using over the last few months or so,” he said, eyeing me. How long was he going to keep up this pretence of not knowing that I was six feet under somewhere?
“What was their name?” I pushed.
“That’s classified information,” he said back.
“Classified information?” I smiled at Kiera. Then, looking back at Sparky, I added, “C’mon, we’re all coppers here. You can tell us your secrets.”
“I’ve never actually spoken to this person. Whoever the informant is, he sends me the information in short handwritten messages,” he said, pushing his crooked glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. “It’s a trust thing between me and my informant.”
“So you don’t trust us?” I asked.
“Hey, c’mon, Potter,” Kiera said, placing a hand gently on my arm. “We’re all on the same side.”
“Are we?” I muttered, glancing at Sparky in the darkness.
He ignored my comment and went back to thumbing through his notebook. “My informant has told me that the team planning this robbery are going to reverse a flatbed truck through the doors of the station. They will then attach chains to the rear of the truck and then wrap these around the ATM. They will drive off at speed, ripping the ATM free from its housing, taking the ATM with them.”
“So they’re a sophisticated crew?” I sighed. “They sound like just a bunch of chain snatching punks.”
“Despite what you think, Potter,” Sparky said, “this so-called bunch of chain snatchers have stolen over five hundred thousand pounds by committing robberies in the past few months. If you think this is beneath you, then perhaps you should go back to special operations on ‘C’ Division.”
“Ever worked on ‘C’ Division yourself?” I asked, staring straight back at him.
He didn’t flinch at my question. “Once or twice,” he smiled.
“Hey, you two,” Kiera said. “We’re meant to be a team here.”
“So you keep saying,” I said, turning away.
There was a short silence as if to give everyone a short breather to gather their thoughts and let the icy atmosphere defrost a little.
“So what time are we expecting the Brady Bunch to show up?” I asked, looking back over my shoulder at Sparky and Kiera.
Sparky shone his torch at his wristwatch and said, “At midnight. We have about an hour.”
“So what’s the plan?” Kiera asked, her eagerness to catch some bad guys as strong as the day she had walked into the Ragged Cove Police Station in the world before it was pushed.
We head up the hill from here to the station,” Sparky explained. “We leave our cars here.”
“And what if they make off in their van, how do we expect to catch them?” I asked, deliberately looking for holes in his plan.
“I dunno?” Sparky shrugged. “Perhaps you could fly, Potter?”
“What’s that s’posed to mean?” I shot right back. Was he testing me?
“It was just a joke,” Sparky said with a smile.
“Stop being so tetchy,” Kiera said, curling her hand around mine in the darkness and lovingly squeezing my fingers.
“I’m not being tetchy…”
“Yes, you are. Relax,” she smiled.
How could I relax knowing that Sparky – the guy she trusted to be her friend – was setting her up just like he had once before? But she didn’t remember that. That had been a different Kiera.
“Let’s get going,” Sparky said, eager to set off up the hill.
We followed him in silence, Kiera not letting go of my hand once as we made our way to the remote railway station. Halfway up the hill we came across the railway tracks and we followed them. Sparky insisted that we kept off the road, just in case the robbers were watching the station before they struck.
We followed the tracks as they snaked towards the station ahead of us in the dark. I could just make out its squat-looking shape in the distance. We walked in silence, the only sound was the wind rustling in the nearby undergrowth that grew up alongside the railway tracks. Arriving at the station, we climbed up onto the single platform. Crouched low, we followed Sparky to the waiting room. There was a glass-front ticket office and I half expected to see Noah sitting behind it waiting to punch out some tickets. But the ticket office was in darkness, and over the glass hung a sign which read CLOSED. There were a couple of wooden benches and in one corner there was the ATM. On the other side of the waiting room were the glass doors the robbers were going to apparently reverse their vehicle into and snatch the machine.
Speaking just above a whisper, Sparky leant in close and said, “Kiera, have you got your radio?”
“Yes,” she whispered back, taking it from her pocket.
“Okay,” he said, taking his own radio from inside his jacket and switching it on. There was a crackle of static. “What about you?”
“What about me?” I asked.
“Got your radio?”
“Nope,” I shrugged.
“Okay,” he said. “Kiera, you go round to the front of the station. There is a small cycle shed for you to hide in. From it, you’ll have a good view of the road. When you see the van approach, call me on the radio, then me and Potter will get ready…”
“What’s this ‘me and you’?” I asked. “I’m staying close to Kiera.”
“No, I need you in here with me,” he hushed.
“Why?”
“Because when they reverse that van through those doors and climb from the van to attach the chains to the ATM, I want you with me to help, as I suspect they’re gonna want to fight.”
“I’m good in a fight, too,” Kiera cut in.
“I know you are, but that’s not what I mean,” Sparky said. Then, glancing at me, he said, “Besides, it will give me and Potter a chance to catch up. I’m sure we’ve got a lot to talk about.”
I looked at him, then at Kiera. “Perhaps he’s right, Kiera,” I said. “I’d like to have a catch-up with my old friend Sparky, too.”
Kiera screwed up her eyes and shot me a distrustful look. She knew I didn’t like Sparky. Then sighing, she said, “Okay, have it your way, the both of you. But I’ve come to stop a robbery taking place tonight, not a bitch fight between you two.”
Turning away, Kiera headed out of the waiting room to take up her post in the cycle shed at the front of the station.
Once she had gone, and me and Sparky were alone, I looked at him and said, “Why don’t you cut the crap. You know I’m fucking dead.”
“Dead?” Sparky frowned. “Is this some kinda joke?”
“There’s only one fucking joke around here, Sparky, and I’m looking right at him,” I spat. “Now stop trying to jerk me off and start talking.”
With a deep sigh, Sparky sat down on one of the benches. “I don’t even know where to start.”
I could see that he was trembling.
He raised his head to look at me and said, “I’m a wolf…”
“No shit, Sherlock. Tell me something I don’t know,” I barked at him.
“I’m not like the other wolves,” he said. “I’m better than them.”
“Bullshit,” I spat. “All wolves are the same. Filthy killers. And you killed me.”
“I didn’t kill you, Potter,” he said, wringing his hands together.
“Who did?” I barked, my patience fast running out.
“All I know is that you were killed by a wolf, but I don’t know who,” he said.
“Look, you ain’t no good to me if you don’t know anything, so I might as well kill you now,” I said, taking a step closer to him.
“I know you’re not the Potter who got murdered,” he said, raising his hands as if to protect himself. “I know you’ve come from another place – if that’s the right word.”
“Who told you this?” I demanded.
“The one who calls himself the Wolf Man,” Sparky s
aid, dropping his voice to a whisper again. “He has some kind of special interest in Kiera. He sent me to watch her and to report back to him. But… but…”
“But what?” I said, yanking him up off the bench.
“I fell in love with her,” he confessed, unable to match my stare.
“And that’s why you killed me, because you wanted Kiera all to yourself,” I said, gripping him around the throat.
“No… you’re wrong…” he gasped.
I loosened my grip just an inch, so he could talk more freely.
“I was just as surprised that you walked out on Kiera as she was,” Sparky said. “You were madly in love with her… you would have done anything for Kiera. But I thought perhaps the Wolf Man had gotten to you – scared you away. But then your body turned up. It was ripped to pieces. It was obvious you had been murdered by a wolf.”
“So if I was taken out of the picture, why did you have to keep spying on Kiera?” I breathed into his face.
“Because the Wolf Man was convinced that even though you were dead, you might show up again in Kiera’s life,” Sparky struggled to explain. “I never really believed the Wolf Man. I didn’t think it could be possible. But he was right. I don’t know how or by what magic, but you have come back, Potter.”
I started to believe that he didn’t really understand that the world had been pushed. I loosened my grip on him a little more. “So if you love Kiera so much, why have you set her up to die here tonight?” I snarled just an inch from his face.
“It isn’t Kiera I have set up to die here tonight,” Sparky wheezed, around my grip on his throat. “It’s you, Potter. Kiera met me for dinner the other night and told me that you had come back from ‘C’ Division. I never told her you were murdered. I loved her too much to cause her that pain. So when she told me that you were back… well, you can imagine what I must have been thinking. Kiera was too upset to eat, so she left for home. It was then I contacted the Wolf Man and told him you had returned, just like he feared you would one day.”
“You haven’t changed,” I hissed, pushing him back down onto the bench. “You always were a fucking coward and a snake.”